


Shibboleth

by bornof_sorrow (wintersfire)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-07
Updated: 2010-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersfire/pseuds/bornof_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damen's favourite fantasy of Laurent has changed... (sorry I didn't get the bound and helpless in and it's not that porny )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shibboleth

_**Captive Princes comment fic: Shibboleth NC17**_  
Title: Shibboleth  
Pairing: Damen/Laurent  
Rating: NC17  
Fandom: Captive Princes. Everything is the creation of and wonder that is [](http://freece.livejournal.com/profile)[ **freece**](http://freece.livejournal.com/)  .  
A/N: comment porn (-ish) for[ Captive Princes](http://community.livejournal.com/captive_princes/24871.html) request by [](http://feverfewmole.livejournal.com/profile)[ **feverfewmole**](http://feverfewmole.livejournal.com/)  (getting to be a habit this lady!). She asked for  _And I'd love to read Damen's favourite wank fantasy: being used as a pleasure slave by Laurent. Bound and helpless a plus._  
Summary: Damen's favourite fantasy of Laurent has changed... (sorry I didn't get the bound and helpless in and it's not that porny )

Over the months he had refined it, made subtle changes as his knowledge of Laurent had grown.

At first it was the tension of his physical superiority over Laurent contrasted with the Prince's control over Damen that made him hard and his heart hammer in his chest. He was constantly preparing for that moment when Laurent couldn't control his spite and dominance and it spilled into forced pleasure and sated desire. The idea of being ordered, _commanded_ to please the brat played through his thoughts making his cock flush with pleasure and his face flush with an unfamiliar shame.

But, once Damen understood Laurent's ability to defend himself, the imbalance in strength and size disappeared like a miasma blown by the breeze, insubstantial and irrelevant. The physical differences his lust hinged on then were the contrast between his own dark, athletic masculinity – hair and muscles and size – and Laurent's pale, cool perfection. He focused on how their thighs would look entwined, how their bodies would shape and mould to each other, how dazzlingly beautiful Laurent would be underneath him.

Then, that too, slipped away and gradually he was fisting his cock tight and fast to images of Laurent displaying him to the court, bringing him to finely developed release, naked, painted and chained whilst Laurent languished in velvet and fur, indolently hissing orders. That was interchangeable with his fantasies of using the jewelled toys on the pets Laurent picked out until Laurent himself could not resist the satisfaction he offered and ordered him to please his master.

There had been nights when he had replayed the solemn study of orange-anchored maps and imagined testing the sturdiness of the tented bed; there had been nights when he had mapped out the exhilarated fucking which would follow a spy outfoxed or an enemy outwitted by horses racing under a moonless sky. There had been cold patrols and miserable duty made marginally brighter by the way Laurent would look, unlaced, in tight leather, tossed against a pile of hay in the stables, or whether he would look so cool and controlled while Damen licked him to jolting release in front of ambassadors and courtiers.

But tonight, and for many nights previously, Damen's fantasies had revolved around other pictures in his mind. He did not question these nor examine them too closely. He only knew that he could not resist touching himself, slowly and with torturous strokes, when he replayed Laurent's face as he impatiently waited for Damen to understand the complexity of his strategising or his quick nod when Damen correctly anticipated some necessity. He could do nothing but dip his fingers inside his own body when he remembered the fleeting look of raw _want_ on Laurent's face when he had stood, stinking of sex and a night of rutting, up against him in the passageway.

His balls throbbed and his cock leaked when he imagined the fragile trust between them expressed through Laurent's wordless pleas for Damen's attention to his mouth, his cock and his ass.

Beyond all of these now, Damen knew there was something which caused him to erupt in shattering, wrenching, unerring release. Something which made his taut body relax and his worried mind clear. Something which soothed his loneliness and self-recrimination in a wave of ecstatic pleasure. And it was so simple that he knew Laurent would laugh endlessly if he knew of it, but he didn't care. He wanted to hear Laurent's stifled cry of pleasure as he finally consented to sink for the first time into Damen. He wanted to feel that possession and immerse himself in its sensations, knowing he had broken through Laurent's iron-clad self-possession. But most of all he wanted to hear Laurent pant into his ear, when sleek and pinked with sex, “Yes” and “Good” and “Beautiful”. And “Mine.”

The end.


End file.
